if my heart was a house
by Biscay
Summary: [modern au] Trixie suggests that Delia and Patsy pretend to be girlfriends to make possibly-homophobic Winifred confront her prejudices. Shenanigans ensue.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1 of 2 (probably). Apologies in advance.

Title from the Owl City song. Fair warning: that's roughly the level of sophistication at which this fic is operating.

* * *

"Did you hear what Winifred said in social policy yesterday?" Trixie asks, perched on the kitchen table, drinking something Patsy can barely identify as a banana daiquiri.

"I think I slept through that seminar," Barbara admits. It is certainly believable, as it is 2pm and she is still in her penguin onesie.

"About the rights of businesses to refuse service to people?" asks Delia.

"That's it. I think," Trixie whispers, leaning in, "she's a bit homophobic."

Patsy has been at university for little over a month, and is still settling in. She had started term with the intention of focusing on her studies and not concerning herself with the social side of things, but the girls on her corridor have sort of dragged her out anyway. There are six of them on the corridor in N-block: Patsy, Trixie, Delia, Barbara, Cynthia and Winifred, and Patsy is still getting used to sharing her living space, especially with such a colourful group.

It is Wednesday afternoon, and she, Trixie, Barbara and Delia have the afternoon free, which has become a routine of hanging out in the kitchen, before moving to one of the university bars. Patsy has tried on several occasions to beg off, but the combined forces of Barbara, Delia and Trixie are, Patsy is learning, hard to resist.

"What if we pretended to be lesbians?" Trixie says suddenly, delighted at the prospect of a scheme.

"I'm pretty sure that's homophobic in itself, Trix," Barbara says.

"I'm sure it's allowed if it's teaching someone a lesson."

"Hasn't she – haven't we all – seen you making out with Tom in the bar?"

"Oh, I suppose you're right. How thoughtless of me."

"I'll do it." Delia volunteers, "she definitely hasn't seen me macking on any of the boys."

"Oh, excellent!" Trixie says, "we'll need to find you a girlfriend, though. You know, to make it convincing."

Patsy's eyes widen in panic as Trixie looks directly at her, "how about you, Patsy? I think you'd make a marvellous lesbian."

Patsy instantly regrets this morning's choice of checked shirt. "I- I don't-"

"Oh go on; just to teach Winifred an important life lesson?"

"It'll just be a laugh, Patsy," Delia says with a wink. The wink makes Patsy's stomach flip. This is _such_ a bad idea.

"Oh, all right then."

* * *

The afternoon continues as normal, except when Winifred and Cynthia come back from their comparative religion class, Patsy and Delia are sitting much closer together at the table than usual. Nobody says anything. This is what Trixie (whom Patsy feels has probably watched too many spy films) refers to as "the long game".

When they eventually decamp to the bar, things continue to be more or less the same, except Delia is more physically affectionate; touching her hair, leaning into her as they sit together on one of the sofas at the back. Patsy decides that the situation is quite agreeable; she can do this, especially if it's for a good cause.

"Can I get you another drink, sweetheart?" From anyone else, the endearment would sound ridiculous, but in a playful Welsh lilt it is perfect.

"You bought the last round, it's my turn," Patsy says, getting up to queue at the bar.

"Oh, you are good," Delia smiles; she is wearing her hair down this evening, her features framed beautifully. As she waits at the bar, Patsy idly looks around the room and can't see anyone she'd rather be in a fake relationship with.

It is only when Delia kisses her cheek at the end of the night, as they all head back to their rooms, that she considers maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

* * *

"Weekeeeend!" Barbara cheers, dropping her textbooks onto the kitchen table, where they will remain until Sunday evening. "Where's Cynthia?"

"She's gone home for the weekend, remember?" Winifred says, putting on the kettle, "would anyone like tea?"

"I'm way ahead of you," Trixie says, holding up a glass of prosecco.

"Yes please," Patsy says, sitting next to Delia at the table. Delia casually takes her hand and Patsy (probably? maybe?) plays it cool.

"There's a barbecue on this evening, by the Christian Union if anyone's interested," Winifred offers.

"I'm going to an Amnesty meeting at 6," Barbara says, "but if there's time after I'll come along."

"What about you Patsy; Delia?" Winifred asks, handing out tea.

"Patsy and Delia are actually going out on a _date_ tonight," Trixie announces with glee.

"That's right," Delia says, stroking Patsy's hand. Patsy stares at the wall across the room and hopes she is convincing.

It is fortunate that Trixie waited until Winifred had distributed the tea before making her announcement, because, by the look on her face, there would otherwise be smashed mugs everywhere. "A date _together_?"

"That's the idea, yes," Delia says.

"I... see. I've got to go." Winifred flees the room, to Trixie's cackling laughter.

"We'll see you later, then!" Delia calls after her.

* * *

Winifred doesn't return, and eventually Barbara leaves for her Amnesty meeting, and Trixie heads off to an organised mixer, leaving Patsy and Delia in the kitchen.

"Right, I'll let you get on, then-" Patsy starts.

"What about our date?"

"But- We were just-"

"Oh, I know it's all pretend, but I'm not giving up my evening off for a pretense. We should go out somewhere. After all, what if Winifred comes back and finds us studying in separate rooms?"

She takes a moment to appreciate Delia, looking at her expectantly, made up and ready to go out in an extremely fetching tea dress. Patsy is powerless to resist. "I suppose you're right."

"Where would you like to go?"

Patsy flounders, unable to think of anywhere that's like - but _not_ \- a date.

Delia takes pity on her. "How about dinner and a movie? My treat."

Patsy can feel herself blush. "That sounds lovely."

* * *

Carol.

Delia chose _Carol_.

Patsy supposes that it saves her the trouble of coming up up with something plausibly lesbianish when they inevitably get asked what they did on their date because _going to see Carol is the most lesbian date in the world._

The only thing that stops her from calling an end to the evening and rushing home and burying herself in anthropology textbooks is that dinner was lovely.

Really lovely.

Not so romantic as to be cheesy, the Italian restaurant was charming, and Delia doubly so, asking about her week, her studies, her plans for Christmas break. The conversation flowed easily and Delia had seemed genuinely interested.

As the lights go down, Patsy almost expects Delia to take her hand. It feels like the natural thing for her to do, at least from Patsy's knowledge of how these dates go (granted, this knowledge is from American movies and television that Patsy categorically denies ever enjoying). But nothing.

Of course, it really makes sense. Despite the pretense, it's _not_ a date, and there's certainly nobody they need to convince in the cinema, so why would they hold hands?

It would be nice, though, Patsy thinks. If Delia took her hand, she would definitely blush, but wouldn't protest.

Patsy briefly entertains the idea of taking Delia's hand, but immediately discards it; the last thing she wants is to scare Delia off. She puts her hands in her lap.

She moves them to the armrest during the sex scene, and is incredibly aware of Delia sitting right next to her. She wants to look at Delia, see what her response is, but can't quite bring herself to.

She clenches her thighs together and hopes Delia doesn't notice.

* * *

Their timing couldn't be better, and they arrive back in N-block at the same time Barbara and Winifred return from their social. Delia sees them and looks at Patsy.

"Should we-?" Delia whispers.

"If you want-"

Delia has to stand on tiptoes as she kisses Patsy on the mouth, hands cradling her face. Patsy is too surprised to do much of anything. The kiss lasts a matter of seconds, and Delia pulls back to see their friends' expressions.

Winifred and Barbara both stare for a moment (Barbara a little appreciatively, Winifred in horror), then head into their rooms.

Delia has a silly grin on her face. "I hope that was all right; I couldn't resist."

"No, not at all. No, it was- it was fine."

"Maybe we should do it again sometime."

Patsy knows her face is as red as her hair. "Maybe we should. You know, to make it look convincing."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much to everyone who commented/faved/generally enjoyed the first part; this is the concluding second chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

Days pass, and Patsy and Delia find a way of cuddling up on the sofa in the communal kitchen that works quite well; despite Patsy being taller, Delia works better as the big spoon and sort of pulls Patsy onto her lap. Winifred deliberately avoids looking at them (much less talking to them) when they are cuddled together, giving Trixie and everyone else plenty of reason to keep this charade going.

As Delia absently plaits her hair into pigtails, Patsy can't think of a reason to complain.

* * *

"There's a varsity women's football match on this weekend," Delia announces to the room; everyone is in the kitchen, making assorted dinners. "Dinners" is a loose term; Barbara is feeding pop-tarts into the toaster and Cynthia is making extra of her casserole to feed Trixie, who has the base ingredients for every cocktail imaginable, but no actual food.

"I'm only on reserve, but if anyone wants to show some uni pride and come along, you're all more than welcome."

"I'll come and watch," Barbara says brightly.

"I don't have any plans," says Winifred.

Patsy supposes that attending football matches is the sort of thing a girlfriend would do. "Of course I'll come along."

* * *

Patsy has never really taken much of an interest in football – it certainly isn't the kind of thing that is ever watched at home – but the girls are all wearing very short shorts, and there's an awful lot of touching going on. Patsy understands the basic rules, and Barbara has been filling her in on bits like the offside rule as they've come up, and she's been cheering along even though Delia hasn't appeared on the pitch yet.

But with ten minutes to go, the coach makes a substitution, which means that Delia is on the field. The little N-block crowd erupts into cheers - Cynthia bought a university-striped scarf from the Student Union and she and Winifred are enthusiastically waving it - and Delia happily salutes them all from the pitch. Patsy feels unaccountably proud.

Delia in action is _lovely_. Patsy watches with great interest as Delia runs up and down the pitch, working almost seamlessly with her teammates, even though she's only been on the team a matter of weeks. With moments to go, Delia passes the ball to the captain, who punts it into the opposing goal, winning the game.

The crowd, which is pretty big for an early-season game, erupts into cheers, and Patsy gets caught up in the excitement, jumping up and down, cheering for her girl. When they meet Delia after the game, Pasty greets her with a kiss (it would be a shame to let the practicing go to waste, after all), to wolf-whisles from Delia's teammates. It feels amazing.

* * *

Saturday night is movie night in N-block, and is traditionally observed with takeaway pizza and watching a DVD in someone's room; tonight it is Delia's turn to host. As usual the film is a suggestion from Winifred, who favours classic movies – usually black and white and/or musicals. As the movie gets underway, with everyone crowded onto Delia's small bed to watch the laptop, Patsy grows drowsy. It has been a long day and the room is dark and warm.

She rests her eyes for just a moment.

* * *

A noise from outside – a drunken student stumbling home – jolts Patsy awake. The clock on the nightstand says it is 2.34am, but as soon as Patsy registers the fact, she realises that it's not her clock. Or bed. And the person curled up against her, arms wrapped around her middle is-

Delia. Of course.

There's absolutely no way to extract herself from Delia's grasp and sneak back to her own room without waking her. And then what? She'd have to explain why she wasn't completely comfortable with Delia holding her so close, her breath tickling the back of her neck-

There's nothing for it. Patsy decides she has to – _somehow_ – get back to sleep and deal with this in the morning. Maybe things will make more sense then.

It takes a while.

* * *

Delia's room is next to the kitchen, which makes sleeping in a lot more difficult than in Patsy's room, at the other end of the corridor. As Patsy drifts awake, she can hear that Cynthia has put on Radio 4, Winifred is making banana bread, and Trixie is ranking her male lecturers from best to worst.

Patsy is not only still caught in Delia's embrace, but her hands have somehow managed to move _beneath_ her shirt over the course of the night, pressed against Patsy's bare stomach. She can feel the whole of Delia's body against her in the single bed, down to where their feet are tangled together. The covers are more off than on, but their combined body heat mean it isn't really a problem.

Delia's breathing is still pretty regular. How can she still be asleep? Someone in the kitchen – probably Barbara – drops a pan. Still nothing. Patsy feels guilty for enjoying this; she should just get up, go back to her own room -

Just a minute more. Then Delia will probably wake up on her own and give Patsy an idea of how one is supposed to behave in this situation.

Finally, _finally_ Delia stirs. Which would be great, except Delia is demonstrating her consciousness by moving her hands, which are _stroking Patsy's stomach_. Patsy holds her breath and hopes Delia can't feel her heart pounding.

"You awake, Pats?" Delia mumbles, her breath tickling Patsy's ear.

"Um-"

"Sleep well?"

"Uh-"

"Wha' time is it?"

"Just gone ten."

"Right." Delia finally pulls back, rolling away from Patsy, and sits up and stretches. Patsy shifts in the bed and is treated to the sight of Delia's stretch, which is both completely adorable and pulls her top up, revealing a lot of skin. Patsy tries not to stare.

"Morning, gorgeous," Delia says with a grin, appreciating Patsy's bed-hair.

Patsy is struck by how much she wants to wake up like this every morning, and doesn't know what to do with the thought. "Good morning."

"Ready for your walk of shame? I don't think the crowds out there will die down anytime soon."

Patsy clearly looks horrified, and Delia laughs. "Don't worry about it. I'll make us some tea."

Still in her pyjamas, Delia gets up and heads into the kitchen. Patsy, in much-rumpled yesterday's clothes, sneaks back to her own room after her, but Trixie catches her eye and gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Delia's tea is much appreciated.

* * *

As she showers – as if cleaning her body will rid her of impure thoughts - Patsy considers how it was never meant to go this far. The whole situation could have been completely avoided if Patsy had the guts to say "no pretending necessary" the moment Trixie had suggested her ridiculous plan.

It just… isn't easy. She's incredibly fond of her friends in N-block, and she _should_ be honest with them, but attitudes like Winifred's still aren't uncommon, and she likes to keep her private life just that – private.

But now her cowardice has gotten her a fake-girlfriend who she's (she can at least be honest by herself in the shower) fallen very much in love with, and when the charade is over or Delia learns the truth – whichever comes first – Patsy will be heartbroken.

Weighing up the options, Patsy decides it is definitely better to just wait it out. After all, there's no reason why they wouldn't all stay close friends, and three years of celibacy can't be that difficult, it's not like Patsy knows how to ask a girl out anyway. If she just continues as normal – focusing on her studies, not getting too close – nobody will ever know.

* * *

"I just don't understand why they have to rub it in our faces." As they return from their human physiology elective, Delia grabs Patsy's hand and pulls her back. Winifred is in the kitchen, clearly airing some grievances. They hide behind the door and listen in.

"They're not being any more overt than Trixie is," Cynthia explains gently.

"Yes, but- don't they have any shame?"

"They do, Winifred. I understand your discomfort with public affection, but there's no reason why Patsy and Delia should be less affectionate than a heterosexual couple."

"But..."

"They love each other." Cynthia says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Patsy's sadness at Winifred's attitude is suddenly replaced with a hyperawareness that she and Delia are still holding hands and are pressed together as they huddle to snoop on the conversation. "They make each other happy. Doesn't everyone deserve that?"

If Winifred responds, it is too quiet for Patsy to hear.

"C'mon, come back to my room," Delia whispers, sensing Patsy's discomfort.

"Are you sure-?" Patsy allows herself to be led away from the kitchen.

"What can I do to cheer you up?" Delia asks.

If Patsy's eyes flick down to Delia's lips, it is entirely unintentional. Patsy is _not_ a slave to her hormones, and besides, she likes Delia for a million reasons other than-

"Wanna make out?" Delia suggests with a sly grin.

Practice-kissing is, like so many events that have spiralled out of Trixie's scheme, both terrible and wonderful.

It's so easy – far too easy – to be so comfortable with Delia, as she smiles into their kisses, peppers Patsy's face with little kisses, and makes happy little sighing noises between kisses. Patsy tries to pretend that this isn't all she's ever wanted, and can't believe that it's not screamingly obvious to Delia, and to everyone else, that she's not pretending. At all.

However long they're going to pretend for, Patsy's not sure she can stay the course.

* * *

"Was Winifred all right earlier?" Patsy asks casually, as she and Delia join Cynthia, Barbara and Trixie in the kitchen.

Cynthia looks up from her book. "What do you mean?"

"We sort of overheard you talking before,"

"Oh, I see." Cynthia nods, "Yes, she's fine. We had a chat, and I think she might have an apology for you."

"That's great," Barbara says excitedly, "the plan's working!"

"What plan?"

"Oh, you don't know," Barbara says, "Delia and Patsy are pretending to be together to try and make Winifred be less... you know, homophobic."

Put like that, it sounds like a rather horrible idea. Cynthia looks extremely surprised, and Trixie looks completely horrified – it takes a moment for Patsy to realise it's because she's spotted Winifred in the doorway, who has clearly heard every word.

"Is it true?" Winifred demands.

"Is what true?" Patsy says, stalling for time.

"That you've been just making this up, all of it, to make me look like an idiot? Is that what you all think of me?"

Winifred has tears in her eyes, and Patsy realises that while she's been scared of losing Delia all this time, she doesn't want to lose Winifred, either. Cynthia is looking anxiously between Winifred and Patsy.

The best way to avoid losing anyone, Patsy decides, is probably to be honest.

"I'm not pretending," Patsy says, aware that she is shaking, "this is how I am, and how I feel about Delia. And I'm sorry, I never wanted to make you feel like an idiot."

Everyone in the kitchen stares in stunned silence, and Patsy rushes past Winifred and into her room.

* * *

Patsy is trying not to cry on her bed like a child when Delia knocks on the door. "Can I come in?"

Hastily wiping her eyes, Patsy sits up, "if you want."

"That was some acting," Delia says, giving Patsy an out.

Patsy refuses to take it. "You know it wasn't. I'm sorry I deceived you, I understand if-"

"Hey, hey," Delia says, sitting next to Patsy and drawing her into a hug, "please don't apologise. The last few weeks have been _amazing_."

This isn't really going how Patsy expected.

"And if you're agreeable, I'd very much like to finish what we've started."

"I love you, you know." Patsy says. Delia looks delighted and Patsy decides that honesty really is the best policy. "I think I did before all this, and I definitely do now. No pretending."

"No pretending," Delia says, softly pressing her lips to Patsy's. "I love you, too."

* * *

When they return to the kitchen, the atmosphere has calmed down substantially; Trixie has made everyone tea, and Patsy feels a little embarrassed about her dramatic exit.

"If you're interested, the LGBTQ society meets every Tuesday," Barbara reads off her phone, "maybe you guys should go."

Delia looks sheepish. "You already go, don't you?" asks Patsy.

"Yeah, I kind of signed up in fresher's week. I've been to a few meetings; everyone's been nice, but nobody caught my eye like you did."

Barbara looks up from her phone. "Good god, you two are gross."

"Maybe you should go, too," Cynthia says quietly to Winifred, "I know quite a few people from the Christian Union who go. It's a very safe space."

Winifred nods mutely, not looking up from her mug.

Trixie looks absolutely delighted with events, as if this had been her plan all along. As she pours Patsy and Delia some tea and joins everyone at the table, Patsy wonders if it was.


End file.
